Misery
by PeaceLoveWolves
Summary: In a world of wolves, there is unrest in the Packs. Talk of rebellion. Blunt disobedience. And the Alphas won't stand for it. They create the Misery Game, forcing each of the twelve Packs to put two pups forward to fight. You, the readers, are the wolves from the Inner Pack, watching these Games. Sponsor your favorites through reviewing and cross your fingers-may the best wolf win!
1. Chapter 1

To begin, I will take you to a place. Far, far from here. In a different forest. In a different world. In a different universe.

A universe where wolves rule.

The forest is made of large, thick oaks. Their branches are broad and supple. Their leaves are bright and green, the signs that spring is new. They are old. Very, very old. But there is one tree that has outlived them all. She is a pine, a white pine to be exact, and the only one of her kind. Located in the very heart of the forest. She is tall, and very, and her bark is ancient and gnarled. Her spreading branches are a good ten feet off of the ground, with a massive radius of five feet, providing a sufficient place to shelter on such a stormy night.

And that is just what these wolves were doing.

Thirteen wolves, gathered around a large white female.

The white wolf was the first one to speak. Her pelt was perfect, smooth and sleek. Her slender form was well-muscled, and a lone scar snaked its way from her shoulder to her chest. Her eyes were an icy blue, unusual for a wolf. "As you all know, this is the appointed meeting time of the Packs. Each wolf will state their status, name, rank, and pack before speaking. Understood?" Her eyes gleamed in the pale moonlight. She surveyed the thirteen wolves calmly.

As she was silent, a large, thick-furred black wolf rose up. "I am sick of the fighting in my Pack!" He spat.

"Your name, status, pack and rank please, sir." The white wolf snapped, fur bristling at his impolite behavior.

"I am Ettore, Alpha of the First Pack, the Pack of Large Game," He snarled. "And I repeat. I am sick of the fighting in my Pack!" He straightened up, squaring his broad shoulders. "Rank is falling apart. Omegas turn on the Betas and refuse orders. There is talk of rebellion!" His yellow eyes glowed angrily. "And I no longer wish to deal with it. I refuse!" As if to emphasize his point, a bolt of lightning flashed behind him, illuminating the forest for a millisecond with its fiery glow.

"I am Corin, Alpha of the Second Pack, the Pack of the Stone, and I completely agree with Ettore!" Snarled a scarred gray wolf, also rising to his paws. His muscles rippled under his shaggy pelt, and he stood supportively by Ettore. "A beta was killed by a group of Omegas earlier this week, and several StoneCutters attempted to escape!" He snarled angrily. "They were punished accordingly, but if this happens again, it might not be within my power to stop it."

"And I, Leandro, Alpha of the Eighth Pack, the Pack of Elk Hides, have had more than my share of trouble this past year. Disobedience runs in this generation as commonly as blood!"

Several other wolves rose with barks of agreement, and the white she-wolf took a step back, pondering a solution.

Suddenly a small silver she-wolf took a step forward. The other wolves fell silent, dipping their great heads respectfully to the wolf. Despite her size, she had a reputation for being a silent, merciless killer, and anyone who dared to oppose her met her claws. Her fangs gleamed as another flash of lightning split the air, followed by a heavy roll of thunder. Rain was swept under the pine's sheltering boughs, and the white she-wolf shivered.

"I am Aleit. Alpha of the Twelfth Pack, the Pack of Flamebringers. I propose an idea." The small she wolf snarled. Her harsh, raspy voice was cloaked with malice that shone in her single eye. "Each winter, two wolves will be selected from each pack," A cold, harsh smile spread slowly across her face. "One male, one female. They will be put in a large, enclosed space and forced into a fight to the death."

"And how exactly do you propose to enclose this space?" Leandro growled.

"The valley between the mountains." A large brown male howled.

"We will have leaders positioned on each peak and within the. . . _arena_ to observe the wolves' progress."

"And what will this achieve?" Spat the white wolf.

"It will show the Packs that the Alphas have the power to do whatever they like with them. We will use pups from the age of six months to two years. Sound good enough?" The small grey she-wolf's eye sparkled with pride.

"But what is in it for the victor?" Snapped Leandro.

"Fame, respect won for their Pack."

The white she-wolf, whose name was Lumi, looked interested. "And what do you propose we call this event?"

"The Misery Game." Said Aleit, satisfied with the fitting name.

The white wolf smiled, nodding approvingly. "All in favor of Aleit's plan, stand up."

As the wolves rose confidently, murmuring their agreement, one gray male cried out, lunging forward, his eyes ablaze with anger. "I, Nero, Alpha of the Thirteenth Pack, the Pack of Small Game, believe that this idea is monstrous and savage! I will never agree to it!"

The white female eyed him coolly. "Oh, Nero. You are young and rash. I was beginning to like you." She smiles faintly, cold as ice. "Are you sure about your decision?"

"We will not participate." Spat the enraged alpha.

"Then I apologize." She turned to the other alphas, unusual blue eyes aglow. "Kill him."

His eyes widened as the other alphas slowly advanced, fangs bared, muscles tensed. Their low growls were covered by a large roll of thunder, and as lightning flashed once more, they leaped.

Nero's pained yelps were audible over the deafening thunder. They split the air like the lightning as he was slowly torn to pieces by the enraged alphas, their fangs being sharpened for the kill.

"And his Pack. Kill his Pack." Lumi called to the vicious leaders. "None of the traitors will survive."

Aleit hung back. "So when will this event take place?"

Lumi flicked her ear. "Summer. The first MoonCycle of summer." She smiled, letting the words roll off of her tongue. "The Misery Game." Satisfaction filled her, spreading fron her chest to her head. "The Misery Game."


	2. Chapter 2

Two wolves chased each other through the warming light of the morning, yelping and tussling, running about, tripping over their own paws in an effort to get to each other. Their tails were wagging uncontrollably, eyes glowing in the reddish light. One let out a yap of pure joy, barreling into the other with a bark.

Aamu smiled at her pups. They were strong, and beautiful in her eyes. She looked lovingly at them, her first litter. She hadn't known this feeling before, this feeling that she would give her all for these tiny pups. These tiny lives that were entering their sixth MoonCycle.

Eligible for the Game.

She shivered at the thought of her tiny, perfect pups being slaughtered mercilessly by some careless Career. She whimpered at the mere image of her darlings in a puddle of their own blood. Like her sister.

She shook her head violently. No. She would not think about Annikki. Never. No.

She turned back to them, playing, carefree in the dawn sunlight. Her perfect babies. She smiled again.

Meanwhile, in the First Pack, the Pack of Large Game, the Selection was beginning.

The wolves never knew how the Choosers did it. It was like magic. They would walk through the crowd of eligible pups, eyes closed, head swinging wildly about. First the females. Then the males. Suddenly they would stop, open their eyes, and select the wolf nearest them.

Laine held his breath as a Chooser made his way through the females, his eyes glued on his sister. Liisa. He knew his place, to be a Career, to win, to become an Inner Packmate, but his sister did not. She was young and frightened, anything but brave and not exactly the strongest pup of her litter. But he felt a special connection to her, and prayed to Lupus that she wasn't chosen. He couldn't bear to see her die.

The Chooser stopped. Laine flattened his ears. Liisa was right in front of him, cowering at his paws. She was shaking like a leaf, and a low whine escaped her throat.

The Chooser sniffed the air.

Liisa shook.

Laine held his breath.

And the Chooser turned, snatching a large black she-wolf by the scruff and hauling her to the front. He let the air escape his lungs, letting out a low whistle. His friend. Well, his enemy now that they would be pitted against each other. That was how it worked. He would either be chosen or volunteer. One and a half hard years of training had brought him to this.

The Chooser called her name. "Margo, daughter of Toni." Margo stood tall, surveying the crowd with an air of importance. She looked around, a faint smile of smug satisfaction etched on her face. "Tribute One."

"And now the males." The Chooser smiled nastily. "We expect our tribute to live up to Ville, yes?" Ville was the male tribute, and victor, of last year's Game. He now lived in the Inner Pack, a pack made up of victors and the families of Alphas. Ville's reign in the Game had been brutal and bloody, and he held the record for shortest Game.

The Chooser entered the crowd. His eyes were squeezed shut, and the ghost of a smile danced upon his lips. Did he enjoy this? Did he _like _choosing who was to stay and who was to go? Did he _like_ toying with their fates? The lives of pups rested in his paws. Did he _like_ that?! Laine bared his teeth in a silent snarl of fury.

The Chooser floated about, darting carelessly from left to right. Laine had seen it twice before, and it disgusted him. The Chooser seemed to tire of this, and grabbed a tiny six-MoonCycle pup by the scruff.

Laine swallowed. Hard. His throat was dry. His heart was beating out of control. His head spun. He felt sick.

Almost as if he wasn't controlling himself, he lunged forward, doing what he had been trained to do. "I volunteer as tribute!"

As he sped up to the front, the tiny pup shot him a look, half of fear and half of gratitude. He nodded slightly, smiling inwardly at the thought that he had saved this pup from doom.

But that left another question.

If he was so happy about _this_ pup's survival, how would he deal with killing the other pups?

Liisa shot a pained glance at him. He smiled, wagging his tail encouragingly at her. _Don't worry, I'll make it!_

She returned a weak smile. Her white fur was bristled anxiously, and her eyes were wide with fright. He longed to dart over and comfort his beloved Liisa, but a Keeper lead him roughly away. He glanced at Margo.

This was it.

One and a half years of training.

He was born to win.

In The Fourth Pack, or The Pack of Fishing, the females were being herded into a group. Adine, a small red wolf, pressed close to her best friend. Jannie smiled down at the pup, glancing at Aamu. Aamu paced restlessly at the edge of the female group, eyes shadowed with fear. They darted from Adine to Kenith, worriedly meeting Jannie's for a second before looking quickly away. Jannie licked Adine's forehead.

The Chooser stepped forward, taking a moment to look through the large group of wolves. His face was serious, doubt shadowing his tired yellow eyes. He was old. Jannie remembered him from last year, and the year before. His left eye had been torn out in a fight, as the story went, and the Alpha had made him a Chooser. Long, long ago. Some said that he was as old as the Game itself, but Jannie disagreed. She said that he was older.

Adine shivered, eyes locked on the Chooser. He slipped into the crowd. This way, that way, left, right. He darted about, eyes closed. She sniffled. He turned. She seemed to shrink as he neared her. Fear consumed her, her eyes were wide and her ears flattened. She couldn't hear anything over the thudding of her heart, hammering away like a StoneCutter in her chest. She was trembling uncontrollably, and her teeth clacked together. The Chooser drew closer, and she tried to sink into the ground. To disappear. To simply leave existence. But his massive head descended upon her, and she felt her paws leave the ground.

Shameless, she burst into tears. Sobbing and sniffling and carrying on. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She stared helplessly back at Jannie as the Chooser drug her away.

But her loyal friend was rooted to the spot, terror clutching her like talons, piercing her heart, digging into her soul. She let out a thin wail, and dissolved into tears herself. She couldn't volunteer! She had made a promise to Aamu that she wouldn't. Aamu apparently hadn't thought of this. She collapsed under the stares of the other females, but no one snickered or laughed or made any snide comments. They knew her pain. They knew the sharp jab of loss that was twisting her gut like a claw. Adine, little Adine in the Game. The thought made her cry harder, and she barely heard Adine's name announced.

"Adine, daughter of a widow!" Called the Chooser, the grief in his lone eye obvious. He stared at Adine with an expression somewhere in between sorrow and sympathy, then trudged off to the males.

A black male was selected, his head high in determination. His yellow eyes were filled with disgust as he looked at Adine, who was slouched in the dust. Her little body trembled, and her eyes were on her paws. "Jay, son of Bryce!" Called the Chooser, and as he instructed them to touch noses, a wolf sign of respect, Adine gave Jay a small smile. Optimistic, despite her position.

"She-wolves and gentlemen, welcome Adine and Jay, Pack Four's tributes for this year's Misery Game!"

The wolves stared silently at little Adine. Fragile little Adine, whose size had prevented her from playing with the other pups MoonCycles ago. Adine, who cried when she got lost in the woods. Adine, who stood no chance in these games.

Jannie started the howl. It began at a low note, sliding gracefully up the scale, then back down again. Jannie's pure, sweet voice rang out, carrying over the hills and down by the rivers, where the fishers paused to listen.

They knew what had happened, and they, too carried up the call.

A pup, lost to the Game.


	3. Chapter 3

**I have been sort of bored, and when I'm bored I type away :P**

**The result of me being extremely bored and typing is lots of chapters, so here you go!**

**Here are a few rules for sponsoring Tributes:**

**For the first chapter, you can give the wolves the following items: small game (Rabbits, muskrat, squirrels, and small birds), flint, herbs for clotting blood, and small traps. This list will grow as the Game progresses.**

**Mentors can hold back gifts from sponsors, and I will PM you if they do.**

**Sometimes, sponsoring can push wolves deeper into trouble, so think long and hard about what you want to give!**

**You can only sponsor one wolf with one item per chapter. **

**Thank you to my two followers, MoonHawk88903 and WizardTeddyBear!**

The Alphas lead them through the forest. Sylvia eyed the other tributes skeptically, an air of insecurity hanging around her like the cool morning mist. She was going to die. This realization hadn't been a hard one for her to face. It was so simple, black and white. I won't survive. So real-sounding. She sent a silent prayer to Lupus. _Let me die quickly._

Her glossy black pelt gleamed in the dawnlight. No amount of trying to convince herself made her fate less obvious. She knew. It was a fact, though very blunt and cold. Fact. Cold, but fact.

She trailed at the back of the group. She was very comfortable with the Fact. Orphaned and alone. Yes, the Fact was almost good for her. Hmm.

She barely noticed as a pale silver wolf fell into step beside her. Her green eyes shone with mischief. "Hey," The silver wolf smiled. "Sylvia, right? I'm Delaney. You scored a ten, huh?"

Yes, yes she had. She just smiled shyly and ducked her head.

"Nice job!" The silver wolf grinned. "Not bad, for a Pack Eight wolf. You catch elk, right?"

"And skin their hides," Sylvia murmured, barely audible.

"Wow, you must be strong! Is that how you got your ten?"

Sylvia smiled a little more.

"Well, I'm a Pack Ten wolf. We catch cows, mainly." She made a face. "Stupid, stupid cows."

Sylvia looked away. She didn't want to be friends with a wolf that might have to kill her later!

Delaney looked around nervously, then dipped her head so it was by Sylvia's ear. "Do you want to form an alliance?"

Sylvia jolted, surprised. She met Delaney's eyes, ears perked in alarm. She broke out in a broad grin, eyes lit with satisfaction, and nodded, just once. Perhaps she _wouldn't _ die.

Sarahi had her eyes glued to Laine. The ghost of a smile was placed on her lips, and she sped up to stand by him. A Career. Like her. Perfect. She looked him up and down. Strong, well-muscled shoulders. Glossy, well-groomed fur. Yes. She wanted him on her side. He could be useful. Very. And she could win if she used him. He would be a pawn in her own miniature game. She didn't want him against her, for starters. He was strong. A twelve! He had scored a twelve! Yes, he would be in her Pack.

But, without a doubt, _she_ would be the alpha. She would kill him once she was done with him. She would break records and gain fame. Fortune. Very, very good. She didn't need to earn her keep being a StoneCutter, or a Digger. After these games-which she was sure would be bloody and brief-she would never need to lift a paw again. No. Never.

The thought made her smile. Hmm. Never. A very final, satisfying word. Never.

Leif looked around, eyes wide and wild, silver coat bristled. He made note of each inch of wood, each bit of grass, each potential water source. Yes. Good. Water.

Life saving. The difference, that small factor that decided life or death. Water was good. Water. Good.

Yes.

His eyes flicked to Delaney. His packmate. The only wolf he liked, the only friend he knew. Hmm. Yes. He knew she was scared. Scared. Good. He wouldn't have to kill her. She would manage to stumble into a Career trap. Scared wolves _do_ have a tendency to mess up. Rash. Yes. Bad.

His paws fell confidently along the path. He was sure he would win. Clever. Yes. Good, very good. He smiled. Clever. It was a nice word, a word that slid smoothly off of his tongue. "Clever." He muttered. "Yes."

He stared at Adine. Stumbling. Shaky. Scared. Bad. No, she was not clever. No. "No." He murmured. No sympathy. No, he felt no sympathy for this small, stumbling creature. This scared pup. But he admired her. She had no confidence. Good. She knew her fate. He hated wolves that refused to admit their weaknesses. Stubborn. Bad. Yes.

One word floated around his thoughts. A small word, huge in meaning and importance. Win. Yes, win. That is what he would do. He had a very matter-of-fact way of thinking. Yes. Win. He would not fail. Ugh. Fail. Bad.

He smiled at the thought of winning. He would become a mentor. He would tell the pups his thoughts. Honest. Good. Yes. Win.

Adine whimpered softly, forcing back tears. No, she would not cry. She was not scared so much as worried. Worried, for her dear mother Aamu. How would Aamu survive, knowing that her only daughter was going to die? Her only daughter. A tear escaped, rolling down her cheek and splashing in the dry dust. "Aamu…"

But she had Kenith. Yes, Kenith would help her get past this. And Jannie would be there for her as well. Jannie, her loyal friend. The closest thing to a sister she had. Jannie would help her mother.

It comforted Adine a little, and she picked up her pace a bit.

Livadi strutted, head high, toward an Alpha. "How much longer?" She inquired, impatience flaring in her chest like a fire, burning through her, eating her up. She was ready to kill. A rare Career from the Ninth Pack, her father had trained her to fight since she was a pup. Since she could walk. Her muscles flexed. Her claws dug into the soft, muddy ground, twisting and tearing. Anticipation surged through her. Her lullabiess had been melodies about war victory and her bedtime stories consisted of tales about the violent God of the Hunt, Velke. She was made for this. This was in her blood.

"It is a two-day journey, Tribute. We have been walking for a day. Nonstop. We have a days' journey to go."

She growled softly to herself.

_Patience,_ she could hear her father saying calmly. _The true killer is patient, in silent wait for his prey._

Her father. He flicked her ear. He had wanted a son, a strong male to win a Game. To bring honor to his Pack and his father. She dug up more mud, its slippery coolness feeling soft and smooth under her claws. She snarled loudly. She would show him. Show him that she could be as good as a male. As good as a son. No, better. She wanted him to be proud of her more than anything. Yes, that was what she wanted, more than fame or fortune. Her father. She wanted to see the glow in his eye when she won, hear his joyful cheer when she came home, triumphant, to take him and Mother to the Inner Pack.

Yes, that was what she wanted.

She fell into step beside Jay. He reminded her of her father, in truth. The same dark fur. The same pale yellow eyes. The same haughty stature. The same deep, self-important tone. Yes, he was almost exactly the same.

And she liked that.

She touched his shoulder with her nose. He turned. "What?"

Yes, the same annoyed fire in his eyes, the look that meant that she couldn't possibly be more important than his thoughts, which she had clearly interrupted.

"Now, _Jay,_" she began, importance lacing her tone. "I am going to give you an offer that I will only make once. You will either say yes or no. No begging later. No changing your mind,"

He looked vaguely interested.

"Now, you scored an eleven. A reasonably good score. You could be useful. Yes, very. So I will give you an offer that is not given lightly."

He stared at her, fascination blazing in his eyes.

"I want to know if you wish to join the Career pack."

He snorted. "No. I can make it fine without any of you pups tagging along behind me!" His pride would not allow him to say yes. So much like her father.

"Now, Jay, I will ask you once more. You would be an exceedingly valuable asset to this Pack. We do not offer to protect you, but ask humbly for you to protect us," She spun her words, sugarcoating them to appeal to Jay. She was good with words. With persuasion. Valuable in the Game, when searching for sponsors.

A small flicker of desire and pride in his eyes was slowly covered by a dull stubbornness. "No. I hope you pups can manage on your own."

She fell back, anger burning in her stomach like acid. She glared, temper boiling, as he sped away.

**Thanks for reading! Next chapter is the Game, and as you can tell, it will be a very tough year. A lot of excellent Tributes! Sponsoring begins now, and I will place gifts in the next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

The wolves were arranged in a wide ring, eyes darting about, fur fluffed up in anxiety. The Prince of Packs stood over the Gathered, a group of items to help with survival in the Game. His tan fur was flat, his cool composure showing that he was undisturbed by the death. The cold, merciless killings that occurred each year. Delaney bared her teeth. Lumi the Fifth. His eyes were an unusual blue, something that apparently ran in his family. It was an uncommon feature in wolves. The Lumi before him, a grey female, had also had the piercing eyes, their deep, dark blue seeming to stare through your and into your soul.

But Lumi the Fifth had murdered her.

Delaney remembered the day as clearly as yesterday.

She had been playing, and the news had come. How could a wolf murder his own mother? _She _ certainly couldn't imagine it. But then again, her mother was dead. She linked eyes with him, a small frown on her face. They had something in common. Motherless wolves. Hmm. It made her sick, having even one thing in common with this wolf, this murderer. But she had more in common with him then she would have liked to admit.

The Gathered was small this year. Sharpened claw extensions, prey, and herbs. A small pile of flint was heaped in the center. Delaney flicked her ear. She had a plan. A plan she knew would have to work. The flint was everything. She twitched her tail nervously.

An alpha walked slowly around, giving out sponsor gifts. Adine was presented with a few green leaves, which she sniffed interestedly. They smelled strong, like the meadow by the river. She smiled fondly as she thought of the swaying golden grass, the dusty, pebbly ground, the bright yellow butterflies that flitted carelessly around. She wagged her tail once. _ I don't suppose I'll ever see it again,_ she thought sadly.

She didn't know it, but at the same time, Aamu was thinking the same thing, sitting in the peaceful meadow and mourning. She knew that her daughter's body would never be brought home. Her little daughter. Her precious little bundle of fur. She had hoped that she would grow up, have pups of her own. Raise them with love. Watch them play in this meadow like Adine had loved to do. But that would never happen. As much as she hated to admit it, her beautiful, perfect daughter was as good as dead.

She looked at the smooth, black rock she had fished from the river. She smiled sadly, a love for her pup filling her broken heart. It was shattered. She would never nurse a pup again. Her paw reached out, feeling the crude etching she had placed upon the rock. _Adine._ It wasn't near the monument her gorgeous daughter deserved.

She scraped the earth with her claws, her tears splashing over the earth. She formed a small hole in the sun-baked ground, gaze hazed by grief. A grief that bore down on her shoulders. A tremendous weight she could not hold. She picked up the smooth stone, holding it lovingly in her jaws for a moment, its cool surface soothing the dull ache that was fresh in her heart. Her frame shook, and a sob escaped her throat. She slowly let go, letting the memorial slide into the shallow hole. She scraped dust over it, head low. Her eyes were shadowed with a sorrow that would stay there forever. She turned and walked quietly away, crying softly.

"Twenty," Lumi called.

Sylvia glanced at Delaney, who flashed her an encouraging smile. She gathered the large sponsor's herbs in her mouth. _Thank you, Lupus, _she prayed silently.

"Eighteen,"

The moments went by in a blur for Livadi. Her muscles tensed. Her teeth clenched. Her eyes blazed. She was ready.

"Fifteen,"

Leif eyed the prey. No claws. He would grab a fishing net and the prey. It would be easy to carry. Good. Yes. Very good. Prey was good.

"Twelve,"

Jay bared his teeth in Livadi's direction. A piece of him wanted to join the Career pack, but his pride held him back. She ignored him.

"Ten,"

Adine shivered, legs trembling with fear. Her ears were flattened back against her skull, and her breathing was quick and frightened.

"Nine,"

Sarahi smiled smugly. The other tributes were weak. Stupid. She could definitely win. She grinned at Laine. He returned a kind smile.

"Five,"

Margo glared at Livadi. Not even a proper tribute. Ugh. She would kill her the first chance she got. Her eyes flashed menacingly.

"Two," Lumi smiled as the Tributes assumed their running positions.

Shard snarled loudly. He would go down fighting.

"One,"

Adine's vision blurred. She stumbled forward. Her head swam. Her legs gave way. The herbs fell from her mouth. She scurried to grab them, shaking uncontrollably. Claws ripped at her shoulder. Her world went black as teeth closed around her tiny throat, blocking airflow.

Sylvia slashed a Career's face as he advanced on her. She dug her fangs into his leg, feeling blood wash over her tongue. He pulled away. She sped forward, grabbing a mouthful of flint. It sliced her mouth, and the taste of her own blood mingled with that of the Career's. She turned and fled. The way Delaney had signaled for her to go, but dodged into a bush to hide herself as the fighting raged on.

Leif snatched the net. A heavy paw clubbed the side of his face. His vision was cloaked in a shroud of stars for a minute, but he shook his head violently and grabbed a mouthful of prey, fleeing before his attacker could hurt him worse.

Sitala scampered toward the Gathered. All she wanted was a bit of prey. Her twisted paw slipped, and she fell heavily to her side. She struggled to her paws, sobbing uncontrollably. The tears stained her beautiful white fur. She stumbled again, scrambling to get up.

A howl rang out as each Tribute fell. One. Two. Three. Four. Shard lost count. He threw himself at a Career, claws outstretched. The male tribute from Two. His claws pierced the wolf's neck, and the Career howled as Shard knocked him to the ground. His jaws closed with a snap as he fastened them to the Tribute's throat. Blood flowed freely as the Career's struggling grew feeble. Shard snarled menacingly, releasing the Tribute's neck and scampering over to a small huge white she-wolf. Her teeth were closed around a pup's neck. She was suffocating it.

He flung himself at her with an infuriated screech. Her head turned up and she released the pup, eyes wide with surprise as he barreled into her. They rolled around on the grass, which was slick with blood. It made Shard sick. Wolf blood.

Shard broke away from the fight, snatching a set of claws from the Gathered and darting off into the forest.

Laine smiled at Sahari. She grinned back. They had done it. All of the other Tributes either lay dead upon the blood-drenched grass or had fled to the woods. He had already obtained a trap from a sponsor. But a sudden sadness swept over him. Dead wolves lay on the ground, pelts sliced, throats ripped open. He flattened his ears. The pup from Eight. She was tiny, Her front paw was twisted, apparently from birth. A thin stream of blood trickled from her mouth.

He walked over to her still form. Her eyes were glazed, open wide, staring up at the sky unseeing. Her paw, the twisted one, was sprawled out beside her. But there was one thing that struck him. His eyes were beginning to cloud. Her fur. Her fur was sleek and soft, ruffling softly in the wispy breeze. Blood stained it, and it was sticky and wet where claws had pierced her. She couldn't have been more than six MoonCycles. Her fur. Her fur was pearly white. He had only seen one other wolf with that color of fur. That specific color, that gleamed a pale gold when it caught the sunlight. That creamy white. That white, blue in shadow and gold in light.

Liisa.

His dear sister.

His kin, the only wolf that knew him better than he knew himself.

She was the reason he had to win. This wolf was a reminder of that. This wolf, who was a total stranger to him.

So, as the other Careers chattered and laughed among themselves, he lay down beside this pup. This wolf, who looked so similar to the wolf he loved most, his dear, dear sister. He pressed his nose to her soft white fur. A tear leaked from his eye, and for just a moment, he grieved.

Sylvia lay, concealed, in a bush nearby, scanning the dead to see if Delaney was among them. Her eyes fell upon Laine and the pup.

She sensed that something important was there. Something special. A Career, mourning a wolf he might have killed himself. She watched in awe. Deep in her heart, she felt a small connection to this Career, this wolf who would probably kill her later, and she smiled sadly.

Suddenly, Laine turned.

And for a second, just that one special second, their eyes met.

She held her breath. His eyes. They were filled with grief. Fresh grief. She looked fearfully at him, but he smiled softly, a sad, agonized smile. He turned, and walked away.

Delaney nosed the pup. She was gasping for air. Coughing, and coughing hard. It was a harsh, raspy cough, and Delaney placed a paw on her chest with a sigh. She had pressed the herbs the tiny red pup had been carrying to her shoulder, as she had seen a Healer do, and, to her surprise, the bleeding had stopped in a few minutes. She smiled at the pup. Her cough had slowed to a hoarse, labored breathing. As she parted her thick fur, she spied several bruises around her neck. As the pup fell into a fitful sleep, she whispered into her ear. "It's okay, I have you."

Shard sat alone in his shelter. His makeshift shelter. Carved strategically from the earth beneath a rotting tree branch. His claws were stained with blood. His fur was torn and bloody. I his jaws, he held a feather. It was also stained with blood, but just at the very tip. It was a raven's feather, sleek and thin. He bit down hard on it. It bent in half, and he spat it out. He slid his paw across the den floor, leaving a smear of blood. He would die. He knew that. But he had vowed to bring as many as he could down with him.

Night swiftly fell. And beneath the glimmering stars, the Tributes settled down for the night.

Their first night in the Game.

**Same sponsoring rules as last chapter. Good luck!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Short chapter, sorry :(**

**Two words: School. Sucks.**

Shard was awakened by a sharp prod in the side. He looked up into two calm yellow eyes.

Snarling, he leaped up. He tensed his muscled, bared his fangs. The feather from the day before lay on the ground, fragile spine crushed under his paws.

"Calm down, you idiot!" Growled the intruder. He dropped a small heap of stone onto the dusty ground. "Great Lupus, you'd think you'd be happy to get a sponsor gift!" Shard looked interested, relaxing his muscles. "It's from another Tribute's family," The wolf explained. "she's from your district. You remember Sylvia?" Shard's eyes widened. "That's her father that sent this,"

Shard dipped his head, thanking the wolf, who slipped away. He looked at the heap of stone, thinking of Sylvia.

Laine's eyes flashed under the darkening sky. At his feet were two items: a small silver trap, made of wire, designed to catch a wolf's paw in its vine-like loop, and a large pile of herbs.

He picked up the trap in his mouth. He didn't really want to use it. No, not at all. He decided to save it, use it when he needed it.

A strong gust of frigid wind ruffled his fur. He shivered. A leaf blew from the neat pile of herbs, and he watched as it danced swiftly on the breeze, spinning aimlessly like his thoughts.

He flicked his ear, thinking of the black she-wolf in the bushes. He had let her go, let her live. He shouldn't have. Careers aren't supposed to save lives. But he couldn't bear to think of the fact that he could have killed her. She had understood. He had seen it in her eyes. The small spark of understanding, the flame of sympathy. He would rather be there, wherever she was then, than safe with these Careers.

Sarahi appeared suddenly, pressing against him. She shivered.

"Laine. Its cold and it looks like rain," She said softly. "We should find a shelter."

He nodded slowly.

"Sarahi's right," Livadi growled. "Maybe we should set up a fort in the old fox den. I saw it on the way here, its barely an hour away,"

"Margo, you get the nets and fill them with the rest of the supplies. We can't leave anything behind," Sarahi ordered sharply.

"And who died and made _you _alpha, Sarahi?" Growled Margo, challenge lacing her tone. Sarahi snarled, shoving her face into Margo's and baring her glistening fangs. They were pearly white, except for a small splash of blood. She swept her tongue over the fang and peeled her lips back.

Livadi looked on, trying not to bristle. "We won't get anywhere by fighting, okay?" She snapped. "Just do what she tells you for now, okay, Margo?"

Margo snorted, but shuffled over and began to fill the nets with prey.

"Aamu?" voice barely a squeak, Adine tried to sit up. She looked around. She was surrounded by moist, splintering wood. It smelled of mold. A sticky paste of leaves was plastered to her shoulder. Stale bloodscent filled her nostrils, as well as the harsh, heavy scent of another wolf. Adine shivered. She was alone in the cool darkness of the morning, but she knew that someone had to be nearby. Their scent was fresh.

A large gap in the side of her shelter let a thin stream of dawnlight filter into the small space and warm her fur, just slightly. She lay her head on her paws, dizzy.

"Hey," A soft voice whispered, and suddenly something blocked the light. Adine jerked her head up, eyes wide and frantic. She started to shake uncontrollably.

"Calm down. If you move, you're shoulder wound will split again. And I might not have the proper herbs to save you again. Hold still."

Adine couldn't. She was shivering and twitching and whimpering, fear taking over and leaving a frozen feeling deep in her chest. She let out a thin wail.

"Shh. If you cry, the Careers will hear you. Now be quiet and sit still. I'll be back in an hour."

Delaney shook her head as she exited the hollow tree. She had never been good with pups. Maybe it was the fact that she had never had a mother, or at least a kind, loving one, that made her so bad at mothering. She wanted to take care of the pup. She certainly didn't want to let it die! But it was already afraid of her. She frowned as she sniffed the air. Where was Sylvia?

Sylvia was nowhere near Delaney or the Career pack. She was lost. She didn't know where she was, or how she had gotten there. When she turned, all she could see was forest. The different trees had no meaning to her. They were just trees. She was sure the wolves from Packs that were centered in forest land recognized trees. To her, though, a wolf that came from wide expanses of grassland with very few trees, just saw trees. In all directions! She looked up, craning her neck to see the sky, and a freezing… _something_…landed on her muzzle. She yelped, startled, but realized that it was about to rain, and hard.

She knew a lot about rain. It was hard to escape in the large expanses of meadow she lived in. But they had fire where she came from, and freezing to death was a very possible thing in these games. But, even if she _had _ flint to start a fire with, she would be found by some careers or something.

She shuddered. This arena was simply a pool of misery.


End file.
